


Virago [ENG]

by HazelIris



Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Inspiration, Inspirational Speeches, Modern Era, POV Alternating, those who can soar to the highest heights can also plunge to the deepest depths
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:15:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24239392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazelIris/pseuds/HazelIris
Summary: 👒 CHAPTER FIVE IS UPWhat happens when the life she has been dreaming of for such a long time is finally unfolding in front of her, but Anne Shirley has completely forgotten what led her to conquer this goal?Meanwhile, Gilbert Blythe is madly in love.virago(n.) a strong, brave, or warlike woman; a woman who demonstrates exemplary and heroic qualities
Relationships: Cole Mackenzie & Anne Shirley, Diana Barry & Anne Shirley, Gilbert Blythe & Anne Shirley, Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley, Royal "Roy" Gardner/Anne Shirley
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	1. Repetita Iuvant

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Virago](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24180439) by [HazelIris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazelIris/pseuds/HazelIris). 



> Hi everyone! This is the first fanfiction I have ever written and I hope you’ll like it.
> 
> This story is originally written in Italian (the Italian version is uploaded to my account as well), and the following is a translation I made to make this story available to a broader number of readers. Be aware that English is not my first language, so you may incur in some errors while reading. [If you point out major mistakes I will make sure to edit them. :)]
> 
> Feedback, comments, and any kind of review are very welcome.  
> Feel free to comment both in Italian and English. Enjoy your reading!

Gilbert delicately pulled the curtain aside to let a shy ray of sunshine enter his room. That day the young man was feeling enthusiastic about having an excuse for leaving the stifling cubicle that was his room in the dorm. He was looking for a different reason than attending his department courses or spending endless days curved upon books in the library. The space between the four grayish walls had been his home for more than five years, and he was starting to find it suffocating. The opportunity for a moment of distraction came a few weeks before when, during one of the breaks from studying he would usually take to stretch out, his gaze settled on the campus events’ notice board. The Symposium of Canadian Universities was a prestigious academic festival held on a yearly basis by a different alma mater in the country. This year was the University of Toronto’s turn to open its auditoriums’ and theaters’ doors to bustling crowds of students coming from various universities of the territory. It seemed the perfect chance for escaping, even briefly, from his tedious everyday routine. Yeah, maybe he would also be able to find, in a remote corner of his soul, an ounce of courage for meeting some new people, and pretending for a couple of hours to not be the classic example of a bookworm inhabiting the library. 

The sun was about to set, the lectures he took part in during the day had been enlightening, and seemingly he was finally feeling like being able to breathe freely again after an interminable immersion apnea. God, he really needed something to give him a little bit of inspiration, and to encourage him to carry on with his studies. The last three months had been particularly draining. While stretching his back after long hours spent sitting in the crowded medicine department auditorium, Gilbert astonishingly noticed that the mounting stress tension built up on his shoulders was slowly starting to release. The day of lectures gave him new prompts for the two papers he had to hand in before the end of the month but, despite the glimpse of newly found motivation, he was still exhausted. He was looking forward to going back to his room – and that was really saying something given the deep hatred he had developed for the place – and laying in bed. Sure, not before he finished transcribing the notes of the previous morning’s lessons and drafting a plan for the papers he was to hand in in the forthcoming weeks… 

However, the biggest obstacle between him and his rest was actually the commitment he took with Christine who, in return for escorting him at the medicine seminars of the day, insisted on dragging him to the lectures on literary criticism programmed for the late afternoon. Far from him to consider narrative as a thing of little importance – after all, he had always been ravenously reading books since he was a child. But that was not the right day to put up with the umpteenth rigmarole on the ouvre of some unknown author of the past century. In spite of everything he couldn’t deny Christine a favor, and so, without putting up too much resistance, he let her lead him inside the university theater and took a seat next to his friend on one of the fluffy midnight blue recliners of the auditorium. As usual, students from various universities of the Canadian provinces had been invited to the Symposium, and the literature department was no exception. To Gilbert’s joy, the first slot of talks was held in French, and thus he was forced to listen for the entire time to the interpreter’s inexpressive voice, which soon made him fall into a state of semi-consciousness. 

_“And that’s why I insist on asserting that it’s necessary to remind ourselves, once again, that narrative can be a healing tool for people who have gone through traumas in their lives.”_ An impassioned voice woke Gilbert up from his slumbersome condition. He needed only a few seconds to realize where he was and the reason why he was awoken while half-asleep. That voice, that voice and the words that it expressed had him enraptured in a mysterious way. “Hey Christine, do you know who’s that girl?” His gaze fell upon the owner of that magnetic voice. A cloud of fire-red hair framed the head of a young woman with eyes the color of the sea. A constellation of freckles was embroidered on her face, and a palpable energy was radiating from her minute figure on stage. Inexplicably, Gilbert couldn’t get his eyes off of her. His hears had been able to somehow isolate the voice’s frequencies until he was able to not perceive the hubbub of the guests sitting in the theater’s parterre and galleries anymore. And the young man found himself hanging on every word pronounced by the impassioned student. 

“You mean the one that is talking right now? Well...I don’t know her. For sure she is not studying literature here in Toronto. For all I know she could have come from some unknown provincial university...” Christine answered. Distractedly moving a hand through his unruly locks, the guy commented, ”She is so engrossed in what she is saying… She’s really cool! I need to reconsider. I didn’t think I would find this cycle of lectures interesting… I suppose I really need to thank you Chris!” he said, winking at the brunette sitting next to him. Scornfully, yet playfully, Chistine answered him, “Gilbert, stop doing your typical hey-I-am-Gilbert-Blythe-handsome-and-unattainable smirk. You don’t even have a reason for doing it now. Huff… And don’t you dare saying that your charm is innate and unintended. Please, spare me.” Christine did know him really well. And having someone that was able to see him for who he was beyond his outward appearance was a good feeling. “Only if you promise me not to start with the ‘Gilbert, you’ve got a never ending line of wanna be-sweethearts in front of your door, and all you do is look down at your feet’ dirge. Spear this exhausted and desperate medical school student this pain.” the young man echoed, sneering. 

“It seems this student will have to remain an unsolved mystery, uh?” It was normal for the two friends to color their conversations with a layer of malice but, even though he didn’t want to show it too much to Christine, Gilbert was truly struck by the arguments of the girl speaking on stage, because they were genuine. He felt unusually engaged. Somehow he seemingly could tell that the young woman had imbued her speech with something strongly linked to her personal life. And this made her words loaded with a sense of authenticity that was utterly absent in the sleep-inducing lectures about literary criticism he had taken part in in the past. 

“Honestly Gilbert, this speech hasn’t struck me particularly. That student has been talking about trite themes that nowadays don’t spark much interest. I mean, the value of narrative in elaborating and overcoming psychological traumas? Did we really need to discuss such a banal issue in a prestigious festival? Isn’t it a concept that everyone takes for granted, and that was long ago introjected by modern society? Not to mention academia...” Gilbert furrowed his brows in amazement. “...maybe you haven’t grasped that her thesis revolved precisely around this idea.” How could Christine not understand the value of the speech they just witnessed? The fire-haired girl invested much energy to try to make the audience meditate on the fact that the value of narrative as a tool for reflection and catharsis is not something to take for granted. Rather, it is a precious gift that one has to continuously take good care of. The theme could seem commonplace, but this didn’t mean that ideas, which were traditionally considered banal, would lose their most profound value. In her speech, she claimed that contemporary society needs to rediscover the most profound joy of reading and writing. She pointed out that, precisely in this moment, it is key to bring to light these issues once again, in order to offer people – without making differences in terms of cetus, race, gender, and level of instruction – a lifeboat to navigate the stormy sea of life… 

_“Repetita iuvant! Repeating can truly do good.”_ the girl ended her speech trilling. The audience saluted her with a warm and sincere applause – certainly not the typical lukewarm and measured response the traditional Symposium lectures got. The girl seemingly awoke more than one dozing spirit. And one of these individuals was a young medical school student with unruly hair sat halfway through the theater auditorium. If her words had not been enough, the student captured Gilbert’s attention because of her ethereal beauty. _A dryad. A wood nymph. A goddess of fire…_ He absolutely had to manage to talk to and congratulate her for her speech. He was feeling flooded with a new energy. He felt that a flame extinguished inside him a long time ago was lighting up once again. 

“Excuse me, Christine. I have to go out just a second to congratulate that...” said Gilbert while getting up and grabbing the jacket that he previously laid on the seatback. “Where do you think you are going?” answered a vexed Christine. “I put up with a never ending series of seminars on therapies for infectious diseases, and you in exchange are abandoning me more than an hour before the ending? No way. On top of that, we are sitting in the middle of the row. Do you really want all these people to stand up to go pay a compliment?” Disheartened, Gilbert sat back on his seat, his gaze roaming the sides of the stage looking for a fire-haired head that for sure was going to stand out in the raring crowd of students. But there was nothing you could do. He lost sight of her. 

Once the evening program had got to an end, the guy went looking for the mysterious young woman that had struck him so much, but he simply bumped on a party of elderly professors who were lively discussing the latest, more promising publications of post-colonial novels. The girl was nowhere to be found. She vanished into thin air like a cloud of steam. When he tried to extort some other information from Christine, she retorted saying that, unfortunately – she would have been really happy to answer Gilbert and cut the situation short –, there wasn’t in fact a list including the names of the evening’s participants. Gilbert then surrendered to letting the girl and her words remain a mystery. Was it possible to be twenty five-years-old, a brilliant medical school student, and yet not be able to utter a couple of words to a person that struck him so intensely? 

***

Ecstatic after her shining performance, Anne ran offstage in her dearest friends’ arms. In the excitement of the moment, she couldn’t discern to whom all the arms crushing her belonged to. An indistinct pile of Diana, Cole Ruby and Moody was submerging her with all the affection that close friends can give you. Like her, the four attended university in Halifax, and offered to escort her to Toronto on the occasion of the Symposium. 

“Anne you were fantastic!!” joyfully cried out a movingly yelling Ruby, a tear pouring from her large blue eyes. “Amazing! Sparkling! Radiant!” Diana, her bosom friend, couldn’t contain her excitement for the situation. She couldn’t stop jumping for joy and telling each member of the crew in the backstage that this formidable girl was her best friend. Cole cast her a pleased glance, looking her up and down. “Totally at ease when stealing the spotlight, Queen Anne. I had no doubt about that, obviously.” “Do you really think so? I felt like I was living a dream… I was utterly terrified and in the depths of despair before going on stage. But when I started my speech, it was as if a cloud of golden powder was enveloping me, removing a weight from my chest. And my voice flew out of me without any effort...” described Anne with a dreamy look on her face. “And here it is, our favourite poet. You are the coolest Anne!” Moody patted her shoulder, looking at her with a broad smile. “Going back to reality… I think I heard someone talking about going partying after the Symposium?” Anne joined the mad shouting of her friends, and together they set off in the direction of the first pub they would find in that neighborhood. 

The biting cold air of the metropolis was sneaking in the folds of the light jacket she chose for the evening. And the fact that she chose to wear a simple spring blouse underneath didn’t help for sure. Although the girl felt that she wouldn’t endure the freezing evening gusts much longer, the thrill of the event had fuelled Anne with an enthusiasm that she hadn’t been feeling for a long time, and that was filling her soul almost as if it was a crackling fire in the coldest time of the winter. Immersed in the bright bubble created by the memory of her moment on stage, there was just one detail throwing a dark veil on her thoughts. Anne came back to reality when Diana’s hand grabbed her arm. 

“Anne, this way! We found a perfect spot!” yelled the girl with thick wavy black hair, trying to catch the attention of her friend. After years of friendship, Diana was often able to tell exactly what was going inside her friend’s head and, especially this time, Anne’s thoughts were lying flat in front of her eyes as if they were printed on paper. Something was clearly upsetting her and that something or better, that someone, was Roy. She could bet on it. “What’s up Anne? Is it for Roy, isn’t it?” Diana whispered trying not to be heard by the others. “Oh, Diana… I can’t hide anything from you, can I? Yes, I must admit… This would be an even more special moment if he was here, and I can’t just push this thought away...” Anne answered smiling bitterly. Her friend Diana wrapped her shoulders with an arm and squeezed her. It was not the first time that the freckle-sprinkled face of her friend got wrinkled by a sorrowful frown when it came to Royal Gardner, her boyfriend. She had already tried to test the waters on the subject, but Anne repeatedly skirted around the reason why he, among everyone, hadn’t joined the group directed to Toronto. “‘Women are not made whole by men. Women are made whole the moment they enter this world’, a very wise person called Anne Shirley once told me.” Hearing these words Anne’s face curved into a bright smile and, after squeezing Diana in an almost suffocating hug, she followed her inside the pub. 


	2. Saudade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _saudade_ (n.) a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant, or that has been loved and then lost; "the love that remains"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! The previous chapter being more of a prologue, it’s now time for the real plot to begin. Thank you to everyone that read the first chapter and left kudos. :) I hope you’ll enjoy this chapter as well.

“Di, didn’t I tell you that she would be impressed by Avonlea?” Cole asked looking sideways at Diana, and making sure to drive without diverting his gaze from the road ahead of him. The rays of the summer sunshine reflected by the asphalt might play nasty tricks on drivers. The girl sitting elegantly on the seat next to him answered smiling sweetly, and then turned her gaze towards her friend who was curled up on the car’s rear seat. Diana briefly examined her friend’s profile and her own lips curved into an expression of deep affection. “Look at her… She looks like a young girl. You should see her expression right now, Cole.” Anne was huddled comfortably, her arms enveloped her slender knees squeezing them to the chest, and her nose was gently pressed on the window glass. Her breath created small drops of condensation on the glass, and her gaze was enraptured by the view spreading at the side of the road. She had never seen such a landscape in her life. She would often hear about the luxuriant wildlife on Prince Edward Island, but for the first time she had the opportunity to prove whether the voices on the place’s breathtaking beauty were true or not. She despised saying that Cole was right, but this time she wasn’t really able to contradict him. Avonlea, the small town where one of her best friends grew up, was truly a little corner of paradise. 

Parking the car in a free spot along the unpaved country road, the young man announced, “Here we are! We can continue on foot from now on...”. Drying, as best as she could, her sweat-beaded forehead, exposed to the sunlight for the whole trip, Anne got out of the car ungracefully, risking a close call to hit the reddish road ground. For months now – she didn’t understand exactly why – she wasn’t able to perceive the world around her with the same sensorial sophistication that had always characterised her. As if she needed something that made her even more clumsy when she moved around. It was a bit as if she had lost part of her taste buds and she was no more able to clearly discern the contrasting flavours of some delicious food. It was as if she was a radio unable to tune in to the various available frequencies. To her now, the world looked like a figure clad in a pale discoloured vest, bearing an empty gaze and a feeble voice uttering weary words. She did see what was around her, but her perception was similar to the one you have during the most agitated dreams. A series of images was unrolling around her without a really making sense – Cole’s lanky stride, his too stylish shoes covered with red earth and had not been the best choice for a walk in the countryside, Diana’s sugar paper blue light dress was dancing around her, swinging in the wind, the mismatched socks emerging from the moss green canvas shoes Anne was wearing… Wait. Did she manage to wear mismatched socks today as well?! Oh. Who cares. 

After having strolled together for a bit, the fire-haired girl lost sight of Diana and Cole. Likely they stopped for having a small snack. A force of attraction was leading Anne in the direction of a cliff at the hedge of a promontory. She carried on walking on her own, letting herself be carried away like a bird when there is favourable wind… The girl’s feet rhythmically stamped on the wild grass growing on Prince Edward Island, treading gently, as if they didn’t apply any pressure onto the expanse they were moving upon. An unfathomable energy flux made her float over a track stretching towards the ocean. The breeze was joining the weaves’ movements, attracting her with a magnetic force she didn’t feel the need to resist. 

Anne’s eyes were not simply reflecting the color of the water expanse extending in front of her. It was as if, at birth, her eye pupils had been immersed in the same pool of color the ocean was painted with. Maybe a long time ago, in a past life, she was a creature of the sea able to melt in the blue and be a whole with the scent of dried salt and the salt dissolved in water. The origin of her unusual hair color could have been traced back to the rich carminio red and coral shades on a rare seaweed growing inside a rocky niche at the foot of a reef – she would love using it to adorn her hair. In that life Anne would dive in the deep ocean, where the rays of sunshine wouldn’t reach her and so wouldn’t be able to burn her really pale skin. In that world she could swim freely without risking to be abused by the light. It was pleasant to let go and float once again in a daydream, especially in a moment when going back to reality made Anne feel like her feet weren’t securely standing on solid earth anymore. A foreign sensation was permeating her. She couldn’t give a name to the emotions she was feeling because she had never felt them before. During the twenty-five years span since she made her first entrance into this world, she couldn’t recall any memory of a similar situation. 

Just a couple of months before, she obtained the much desired degree in English literature she was dreaming about since she was a child. Right afterwards she moved from Halifax to Charlottetown together with her friends Cole and Diana. Despite the big earned achievement and the novelty of a new life phase that was now unfolding, the ocean colour-eyed girl was feeling that her life was stuck in a limbo. She recalled now the day of her graduation. With bitterness she remembered that she lived through that long-awaited day as if it was an out-of-body experience. On a superficial level, she let herself be carried away by her dear ones’ happiness, but she did not truly live that moment. Her friends were there – the dear Diana, the loving Cole, and the inseparable Ruby and Moody – they were all radiant on that warm spring day. There were even Aunt Josephine and Aunt Gertrude, the couple to whom the foster system entrusted her during the last years of high school. Thanks to them Anne had met Diana, one of their nieces and, from that moment on, her bosom friend. After all, the two ladies wouldn’t miss for the world the graduation of the young woman they had come to consider their niece. They had been more than happy to finance her studies, thus encouraging the talent they saw in her the moment they met. All the people that loved her were there to celebrate her achievement. The only person that was not actually present was herself. She fully committed with all her energy for managing to reach that goal, for finishing her studies, for ultimately obtaining independence, and a real opportunity to choose her path and put herself in the world out there. Now she realized she was having a mental black out. She wasn’t able anymore to feel, inside her, the energy and the inspiration that, for so long, had spurred her actions and guided her choices. 

She was feeling empty and she didn’t know what else to do if not letting herself be lulled by the sea breeze. Maybe she was hoping that that gentle wind would make her fly away, or that it would transform her into sea foam, laying her down onto a veil of water, like Andersen’s little mermaid. Could you feel nostalgic about your own ambitions? Was it possible that what motivated you until now had vanished into thin air? Her body was gradually absorbing the swinging sound of the waves that lapped against the foreshore. Her heartbeat was blending with the icy pulsing sound of the ocean. The more her body filled with the sibylline presence of the ocean, the more she felt her soul losing weight. She was not sure she liked the sensation, but didn’t care for the time being. Nature was gifting her with a moment of relief, and she was grateful for it. She would stay there laying on the riff a little bit longer, just long enough for her to absorb a bit of the alien energy of the ocean. 

“Anne! Anne!” Cole’s and Diana’s distant voices made her reemerge from the vision. She had let herself get carried away by her imagination. “We got such a fright! We couldn’t see you anymore and...” stammered the honey blond-haired young man, having gotten paler than usual. Diana was staring at her with confused dark eyes. “What’s up Anne? Are you okay? You are not looking your best...” said the dark-haired young woman. The two decided to turn a blind eye on the feeble reassurance their friend gave them. Lately there was something off with Anne but, although they had been trying repeatedly to understand what was upsetting her, the young woman seemed to shut herself away. Understanding that it was better not to insist on asking questions, Diana skillfully changed the topic of the conversation. “Sir Cole, Lady Anne, I think the time has come for us to withdraw to our humble abode. The sun is about to set and it’s not proper for two young people such as you to wander at this late hour.” She thus managed to get a feeble smile out of Anne. Playing along, Cole slapped both friends’ bottom and started running towards the car. “Yuhuuu!” The first night in our new flat! The last one pays tonight’s meal!” 

Once they all hopped on the car Cole, once again the driver, traveled back on the unpaved road that had led them to the ocean, and then he decided to complete their tourist trip by passing through Avonlea’s centre. As they were waiting at the traffic light, on the opposite lane the young man saw a car moving past – he could have recognised it among thousands. How many other yellow beetles could there be in a small town such as Avonlea? “I can’t believe it! Blythe is back in town! And he’s still got that peculiar car of his father’s, haha! Dear old Avonlea… Every time I come back it feels like diving into the past.” Cole continued chuckling for the great part of the journey back home, without caring to offer an explanation about the incident to Anne and Diana, leaving them with a quizzical look on their faces. The two women exchanged a conspiratorial look. It really was true that islanders are a bizarre lot...especially those who grew up in Avonlea. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am curious to know what you think of this chapter. Also, where do you think this story is going? Let’s chat in the comments. :)


	3. Solivagant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _solivagant_ (adj.) wandering alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! First of all I want to thank everyone that read the first two chapters and left kudos! This is my very first attempt at writing fanfiction, and I am very pleased by your response. :) While the first two chapters were very much descriptive, this third chapter is more filled with action. I hope you’ll like it!

In the collective imaginary, moving out is a crucial moment that marks the beginning of a new adventure. When recalling a moving out phase in their life, many say they felt the same emotion of the first day of school, a brand new notebook with blank pages ready to be filled in your bag. Or, to find a metaphor more fitting to moving out, blank walls and a space still to be decorated. For the three friends that, that afternoon, were about to finish their moving process to one of Prince Edward Island’s port towns, the situation didn’t exactly match this ideal, but you could actually work on it. Everything was coming along nicely, except for the fact that cardboard boxes’ dust was floating in the air and Diana’s allergies were horribly flaring up, and Cole was starting to feel his arms aching for the numerous loads he had been lifting in the last few days. Anne was sitting among the boxes scattered chaotically on the floor, carefully examining their contents. As she methodically picked out from boxes the various volumes belonging to her book collection, the girl was trying to imagine how she would place them on the shelves of the new bookcase they finished putting together in the morning. The large window in the sitting room offered a nice view of a gloomy and rainy day in Charlottetown. The small apartment was situated on the third floor of one of the town’s characteristic brick buildings. In such a situation, having a friend with wealthy parents like Diana, could be considered a stroke of luck. The Barrys had been the apartment’s owners for decades, it being among the many properties that were bequeathed to the next generation in their family. It would have been otherwise quite difficult for a bunch of newly graduates such as Anne and her friends to rent an apartment in a historical building such as that. The space offered what they were looking for and it had its own personality. Anne, Diana and Cole all had their own room, the kitchen was acquarine and had a lot of space to easily cook together, and the sitting room’s walls were painted with an inviting scorched earth color. Clearly, the space had been inhabited by souls who had had an interesting personality. All considered, it was a welcoming and cozy space and, above all, to Anne’s joy, there was so much scope for the imagination in there. 

For as long as possible, the three friends had been postponing sorting out the read-headed young woman’s colossal book collection. During her university years, Anne would literally spend all her savings to loot second-hand bookshops in Halifax. And she would have started even before if she hadn’t been spending her childhood and adolescence passing from a foster family to the next one. They chose together the light-colored wood bookcase that they placed in the sitting room, but the delicate task of arranging books on the shelves was up to Anne. The three started to work – Anne monitoring every move with a critical eye – and managed to finish before evening. Anne sat down at the centre of the sitting room, proudly looking at the finished result – all her beloved books were gracefully piled on the shelves and, to add the cherry on the cake, there was a lot of space for new additions. What on earth had she done to be worthy of friends such as Diana and Cole? Anne often asked herself questions of this sort and, as often, she couldn’t provide an answer. She was grateful to have in her life two kindred spirits like them. After having brought her friends – both collapsed exhausted on the couch – a cup of tea and a tray of biscuits, she decided to take the car and wander a bit, alone with her thoughts. She had spent the last days at home continuously in company with Cole and Di because of the moving process. A short drive on her own was going to do her well. And then she was curious to explore the surroundings of Charlottetown. 

Getting into her raincoat and pulling up the hood, Anne climbed down the stairs, got outdoors and reached the car that was parked only a few metres away from the building. After starting the engine, for a few seconds she considered turning on the radio or playing a playlist. In the end, she decided that silence would be the most suitable background for the occasion. The time when most people stopped working being long past, the town’s streets were pretty much empty. Anne continued driving until she found herself on a road outside the town, surrounded just by trees and the noise of the engine and of the tires on the wet road. She chose well when she decided not to play music. That was the perfect atmosphere to let your thoughts run free. She felt mentally and physically overwhelmed by the endeavour of moving out. Her thoughts were swirling as the car’s tires continued rotating. Anne hadn’t crossed a living soul for almost the entire journey, but now a small car was approaching from the opposite direction. The girl’s face frowned quizzically. Why did that car look somewhat familiar? As it was approaching Anne was trying to remember where she saw that car before, but without result. Drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, she kept a steady gaze on the yellow car. Interesting, it was a vintage car. The car was almost moving past when Anne, too distracted by her thoughts to pay the proper attention to the slippery road, lost control of the steering wheel and her car crashed into the car in the opposite lane – it was a yellow beetle. 

It took some minutes for Anne to recover from the shock of the crash. Saved by the airbag, Anne ascertained that she was overall uninjured. After a few moments in which she felt at a loss, she recalled that someone else must have been involved in the accident. Getting slowly off the car, the young woman drew near the yellow car. Trying to avoid the glass detritus scattered on the wet road, Anne got close and saw that on the driver’s seat there was a woman with caramel skin and a mass of dark curly hair. She had fainted. Or at least she wished she had simply fainted. The ambulance arrived in only a few minutes. As soon as it stopped near the spot where the crash had happened, two nurses arrived running with a stretcher. They immediately started working to assist the woman who was trapped inside the small yellow car. After a few moments, one of the two nurses let out a stifled scream, “Mum! It’s my mother! Oh my god!” Anne, shocked, was standing still next to her car, waiting for who knows what. After having hauled the injured woman inside the ambulance, the other nurse – the young man, who was apparently the son of the woman involved in the crash, stayed with her in the ambulance – headed towards the fire red-headed young woman to check on her state. He ascertained that there were not severe injuries externally, but insisted on escorting her to the hospital too, in order to do a full check-up. Once they had arrived at the hospital’s emergency room, Anne underwent all the necessary check-ups, as the nurses dragged the caramel-skinned woman into another wing of the hospital. It was up to Anne to explain the dynamics of the crash to the emergency room staff, in as much a detailed way as possible. Ironically, Anne’s talent for words turned out to be quite useful on that occasion. After having made sure that she hadn’t suffered any compromising damage, the young woman was declared free to leave the hospital, but she insisted she wanted to stay. She was terrified for the fate of the woman that had been driving the yellow car. Not long before, she had overheard that she had been carried in the operating room. 

A few hours went by. Not being a relative of the woman, Anne was not allowed to ask questions about the patient’s prognosis. Luckily, after having spent a long time sitting in the ER waiting room, she saw passing one of the nurses that assisted her, and she decided to take the risk. Suddenly standing up, she managed to halt the young man by grasping his shoulder, letting go just a moment after. The nurse slowly turned towards her and she noticed, with a gut-wrenching feeling, that he had blood-shot eyes and teardrops running down his cheeks. A pang of recognition crossed the young man’s eyes. He disarmingly looked like the woman in the crash. “May I help you, Miss?” the nurse said. The resentment that, for a moment, could have been spotted in his eyes, was soon covered by the neutral look of a professional. “I...I...” Anne wasn’t able to be consoled because she knew she was the cause of the accident. “I know that it is not my right to ask, but I would like to know how is the woman that I...crashed into.” Elijah Hanford, the nurse standing still in front of Anne, answered her after shortly hesitating. The slender woman with auburn hair and ashen skin bore a terrified and imploring gaze, so he decided to give her a chance. “Miss, I am actually the son of the woman you are talking about.” Anne kept silent, encouraging him to go on with her eyes. “My mother is...she had to undergo surgery, but now she is stationary.” It was then that the increasing tension Anne kept bottled for hours exploded, and the woman started sobbing. The anger that Elijah was feeling because of what had happened to his mother didn’t prevent him from feeling tenderness towards the young woman, who was visibly upset and seemed truly sorry for what had happened. “Please, Mr…?” “My name is Elijah.” Anne weakly smiled at him, ”Please Elijah, I would like to help your mother somehow. Is that something I can do for her? Maybe assisting during her recovery? Helping her tending to the house?” Anne was rambling, but she really wanted to help. “Here is my business card with my address and my phone number. Please, do reach out to me as soon as she will be discharged. At least, I would like to talk to her… Oh, I forgot to say. My name is Anne Shirley.” Elijah seized the card the woman was handing him and nodded. Somehow, the young woman seemed trustworthy. 

Receiving a message from Cole who came to bring her home, Anne was about to go away when the room’s main door was opened wide, and tall, slim man, clad in a white coat, his eyes noticeably shrunk by his glasses’ thick lenses, suddenly burst in, beckoning Elijah’s attention. “Elijah, she is waiting for you in her room. She is awake now.” Greeting the nurse with a nod, Anne excused herself out using the visitors’ exit. Following behind the young doctor, Elijah headed towards the room where his mother was hospitalized. “Thank you for coming to fetch me, Gilbert.” The nurse’s face curved into a hopeful smile. “You’re welcome. I hope I haven’t stolen you from someone who needed assistance.”, said the young doctor, a worried look hovering upon his hazel eyes. “Oh no. That young woman wanted to know how my mother is feeling. Apparently, she is the one who caused the crash. I think she had been staying here for hours in the hope of getting to know how she was.” answered Elijah. “What?! You disclosed confidential information about Mary’s prognosis to a stranger?! Elijah. Tell me you are joking.” Doctor Gilbert Blythe was really mindful of the hospital’s regulations. And when it came to his family, Gilbert could become incredibly protective. “I hope you realize how serious is what you’ve done, Elijah.” “Gilbert, may I remind you that I am not a kid anymore and that I know how to do my job well? For god’s sake! That girl was terrified because she thought she killed her! She just wanted to help. Now let me go see how my mother is.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think? I am really curious to know where you think this story is going. Feel free to comment, even with just one word! :)


	4. Thantophobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _thantophobia_ (n.) the phobia of losing someone you love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! First of all I want to thank everyone that read the first chapters and left kudos! This is my first fanfiction, and I am very impressed by your response. :) Thank you and enjoy the new chapter!

Anne completely collapsed once her apartment’s door had been closed behind her. Keeping quiet, Cole withdrew into the kitchen to prepare a nice and strong drink to offer to his friend later, in an attempt to relieve her tension. Sitting stiffly on the edge of the sitting room’s couch, her gaze fixed on a spot on the wall in front of her, Anne was entirely at the mercy of the thoughts that were making her head explode. She ran over a person. She risked killing her. Tears were rolling down her cheeks profusely, at this point uncontrollable, and her heart was tightened in a knot of tension that was taking her breath away. Up to that moment, she had thought that this strange indifference to life to which she couldn’t give a name, wouldn’t have damaged people around her. Their lives would have been barely touched by it. After all, why would other people care if she thought her life was insignificant? Probably the only thing they could remark upon was that her contribution to society was practically zero. But, at the end of the day, she was a graduate who had found a job in a bar as a part-time waitress – she was just another face in the crowd, and her presence in the world wouldn’t bother anyone. So she had convinced herself that she would go easily unnoticed. And then, even though her thoughts were causing her problems, who cared? They were inside her head and no one else could have access to them, right? It was perfectly logical. But now things had taken a different turn. She had become a danger for others. She almost killed a person, and all because of her inattention. Her indifference to the world surrounding her had been shattered by the incident and, as much as it was tragic and horrible to think about it, after a long time Anne was feeling some emotions – sense of guilt, anger, sorrow, regret. They were all emotions that, in this moment, she was feeling with every cell of her body, and the whole of it was shouting out her desperate wish to be able to speak with the woman who was almost deprived of her life, but it was not up to Anne to decide. She truly wished the woman’s son would get in touch with her, and give her the opportunity to make amends. In the meantime though, she had to find a way not to fall in the chasm of darkness that was opening under her feet, threatening her to plunge into it, never to come back again. And so, she did what was most natural to her when she was feeling bad, the thing that she did when she was looking for answers, the only resource that she got everytime she needed an anchor to save herself during a storm. She grabbed her notebook and started pouring into paper all the deafening thoughts that by now were blurring her sight. 

***

Like every evening since he had come back living on Prince Edward Island, Gilbert returned to his quiet apartment. The only sound that he heard when coming in was the sinister creaking noise of the front door the young doctor couldn’t find the time to fix. When he left his house in the morning, he was well aware that a long and demanding shift was waiting for him at the hospital, but he would have never imagined to bump into a family member whose life was at risk. That was one of the days when Gilbert felt happy to have started a career in the medicine field. He actually helped save Mary. But, although he was pleased for the positive outcome of the surgery that saved the injured woman, with disappointment he realised he would never manage to avoid getting emotionally involved when a case concerned him in such a personal way. One of the things that made him lose his innate ability to think in a sensible and rational way was the fear of losing the people about whom he cared the most. When this fear would take him, he would be filled with an uncontrollable anger that took command of his body and his mind, as if it was the pilot and he was the car to be driven down a precipice. This was the fear that he had been gripped by since the moment he knew Mary had been taken to the hospital. She was part of the family he built after losing his father, the last survivor of his family of blood. He was still a kid when Bash, the man that he immediately considered as a brother, had become his guardian. After only a few years, he met Mary and the two, with the power of a late love at first sight, got married a few months later. They didn’t have to wait long for the arrival of sweet Dellie, who became Gilbert’s favourite. He had managed to build a decent rapport even with Elijah – the son Mary had when she had been really young –, even though there had been some friction between them at the beginning. Now that he was alone in his apartment, he acknowledged that treating Elijah so badly before was an overreaction, and he decided he would call him as soon as possible to say sorry. He removed his coat and, using his hand to dry the sweat that gathered on his nose bridge where his glasses rested on, he headed towards the bathroom. The mirror in the unadorned room reflected an unpleasant image. His eyes, whose color was hardly identifiable behind the thick lenses, were reddened and marked by heavily dark circles – a small gift offered by his shifts at the hospital. He had often been described as attractive, but in that moment this adjective didn’t suit the exhausted man he was looking at in the mirror, at all. 

***

One evening, before starting her shift at the bar where she worked during the week, Anne received a phone call. It was about a week after the accident occurred. “Am I speaking with Anne Shirley?” said a female voice on the phone. The call was coming from an unknown number, but the young woman took it still, in the hope that this was the call for which she had been waiting for days. “Yes, it’s me. Who’s speaking?” “My name is Mary Lacroix. I am the other person who was involved in the accident, only a few days ago.” Anne’s heart stopped beating for a second. Curious choice of words. Mary Lacroix didn’t seem to blame it all on her. Before Anne could put together a meaningful sentence, she was anticipated by the woman calling, “My son Elijah shared your number with me. He told me that you’ve stayed in the ER waiting room for hours after the accident. That day I didn't have the opportunity to do so, but I want to tell you now. Anne, thank you for staying. Thank you for not disappearing after what happened.” “Ms. Lacroix, it was the least I could do for you after what I had caused.” answered Anne with a lump in her throat. “It’s not something every person would do Anne. Many are capable of looking the other way. Anyway, you can call me Mary. Let’s not be this formal.” The woman on the phone had a very sweet and vibrant voice. It was paradoxical how the person to whom she had caused such a big damage was now comforting her, with the sound of her voice. “Ms. Lacroix...Mary, sorry if my question will sound too personal. Have you recovered? Did they let you go back home?” The woman on the phone reassured her and explained that the surgery she had undergone did end up being successful. Now she had to spend a long time in bed recovering but, once the period would finish, she would resume her regular life. Anne couldn’t help feeling a little relieved. Mary Lacroix was alive and she would recover. And, as sure as the world, she would do everything she could to make her life easier in the meantime. “There’s one more thing I want to ask you, Mary. Is there something I can do to help you?” “There is actually something.” 

***

“Hi Mary, I'm here!” said Anne coming into the Lacroixs’ house with a copy of the keys Bash had given her a few days before. “Good morning to you dear, it’s always a joy to see you. Make yourself at home...The tiny little beast is in her bedroom...” “How are you feeling today? Were you able to get up and take a few steps? Oh, Mary...” Mary nodded her head no, but without spoiling the wide smile that had appeared on her face at Anne’s arrival. As much as it seemed bizarre, Mary was almost grateful to have been involved in that accident, or at least she was grateful that the occurrence had led to meeting Anne. She was starting to grow fond of the young woman who, in only a few days and in such a natural way, had become the perfect playmate for Delphine, and at the same time would bring a gust of fresh air every time she came to meet her simply to check if she was getting any better. That afternoon, Bash – Sebastian preferred limiting the use of his full name to official documents – had asked Anne to babysit Delphine. He would be busy all day in “Green Gables”, his farm in Avonlea, and he couldn’t find anyone else that could care for the little girl. As usual, Anne had accepted willingly and showed up perfectly on time. 

Impatient to start playing with Anne – _What game would they play today? Would they go slaying dragons like knights in a faraway kingdom, or would they explore a castle nestled among the European mountains? Would they sail a pirate vessel to explore the mysterious Bermuda Triangle? Would they play at being empresses of a glorious past empire, wearing sumptuous dresses?_ – Dellie had been getting ready all her toys while waiting for her new friend’s arrival. “My most flowery salutations to you, Fairy Bluebell! May I enter your splendid abode?” said Anne peeking out from behind the door. “Please come in Princess Cordelia… You are welcome in my little fairy house!”, answered an ecstatic and overjoyed Dellie. “I was actually waiting for you for tea time. I would like you to try jasmine tea!” With a glint in her eyes, Anne answered, “I would be delighted, my dear friend Bluebell.” Lying in her bed in the adjacent room, Mary couldn’t help but smile at the kind pleasantries that Anne and Dellie had just exchanged. She would have liked to join their little party and taste a steamy cup of jasmine tea. Alas, being impossible for her to enjoy their feast, she could at least make use of the time and take a nap. 

The key turned for a second time in the front door lock. “Bash?!” He must have forgotten something at home again, that scatterbrain of her husband. He made her smile every time he would forget something at home. It was typical of Bash. “Mary? Are you home?”, asked a kind voice coming from the doorway. “Gilbert?! Is that you?” Mary asked. She heard hesitant footsteps approaching her bedroom, a light knock on the door and again the same warm voice. “Yes Mary, it’s me, Gilbert. Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude, but I wanted so bad to see you all! I couldn’t find a free moment for days. How are you?” Mary chuckled, “Gilbert, you are always such a sweetie. I bet you cannot wait to pamper your beloved niece. Haha, she will be so happy to see you!” A man with thick dark hair and a weary look was peeking out from behind the door, flashing Mary a bright smile. After a bit though, his smile vanished, replaced by a layer of worry. It was then when the young man started asking a series of questions about the health of the bedridden woman. “Gilbert, breathe and calm down. Everything is under control. You don’t need to stress out. Now, please sit down and let’s catch up, what do you say?” Mary tried to reassure him. She knew how much he had at heart her wellbeing and the one of all people in their small family, put together by love. And so Mary told him how her recovery was going. “I feel good, but I think that I’ll definitely need all the time I was recommended for a full recovery. Luckily, thanks to Anne, we are able to manage my convalescence”, said Mary, accompanying her words with a heartening smile. 

“Anne?” The young man’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Oh, right! You still haven’t met her. I need to pick up the story from the very beginning, but I am sure you’ll like her!” Mary told him about the new friend that entered her life in such a surprising way. She explained that it was Anne herself, without any hesitation, to offer to give her some sort of help. She wasn’t expecting Gilbert’s reaction. The young doctor’s protective instinct awoke abruptly. “You are telling me that the person that ran over you is, in this very moment, in the next room with Dellie? Mary...are you sure about what you are doing? Do you trust this woman? Have you inspected her reputation...?” Gilbert wasn’t able to contain the rapid sequence of questions caused by his worry. He was so upset that he didn’t notice the door behind him had been slightly opened, and that two stunned blue eyes were staring at him. 

“I...I… I am sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt. I and Dellie moved to the living room and I couldn’t help hearing your words...” “Uh...” Gilbert fell silent. He was flabbergasted by the vision appearing in front of him. At the height of the door stood a woman that seemingly popped out of one of the fairytale books that his niece loved so much. A short bob of fire-red hair framed her snow white skin which was flecked with a myriad of delicate freckles, and two sapphire-blue eyes that were staring at him with a mixture of embarrassment and resentment. “How rude of me not to have introduced myself.” Anne cut him short, scorn evident in her voice. “My name is Anne Shirley. I confirm that I am responsible for Mary’s accident and I am ready to produce my personal data if you would like to go to the police to ascertain my criminal record is clean. Instead, would you prefer to join the long list of people claiming that wherever I go I bring mishap, sickness and misfortune, then I am very sorry to inform that all spots have been located, and we are not looking for anyone else.” Then, resuming her gentle tone, Anne said, “Mary, if it doesn't trouble you, Dellie and I will continue playing in the living room...” “Of course dear, feel free to play wherever you prefer”, answered Mary, glowering at the astonished young man. Gilbert temporarily lost his ability to think. _What happened? What did I do wrong? Oh my god, she must have heard everything. What did I do?_ “You’d better go to the living room and say sorry to Anne right away. I believe you hurt her without any reason, Gilbert.” “I...” “Go.” 

Gilbert slowly entered the living room. Not knowing exactly what to do, he tried lightly brushing the red headed woman’s shoulder, and said, “Anne...” Startled, she hissed, “My name is Anne Shirley.” “Anne Shirley, I am really sorry to have insulted you. Please, I beg you not to take my words to heart. I was just worried for Mary and Dellie...” Furious, after one thousandth of a second Anne retorted, “Oh really, you do not need to say sorry. I am used to taking these sorts of insinuations about myself, which are even and, above all, uttered by strangers.” “I am sorry I haven’t introduced myself. My name is Gilbert Blythe and I am Bash’s brother and Dellie’s uncle...” Embarrassed and without an ace in the hole, he decided to tempt fate. “May I join you? I haven’t been playing with Dellie for a very long time.” Hearing his words, the livid woman shot upright and headed towards Mary’s bedroom. He heard them hastily exchange a few words and then he saw the woman with the fire bob emerging from the room, grabbing her bag and coat and stopping just to say, “Dellie, I let you play for a bit with your uncle Gilbert. The two of us will continue our adventures later!” And then with a menacing look she turned to the man in front of her and, with a vexed tone, she said, “It was a pleasure to meet you, Gilbert Blythe.” And with that she closed the front door behind her. The woman’s words hit him like a slap, and suddenly a memory resurfaced from a hidden corner of his mind. _Repetita iuvant_. That woman was the girl that he heard speaking at the Symposium in Toronto years before. It was really her. Astounded and utterly confused by what just happened, Gilbert stayed temporarily frozen in the place where he was standing. And he would have stayed there for a long time hadn’t the tiny beast climbed up his leg, beckoning his attention, “Uncle Gilby!!! Let’s play, please?!” “Just a second Dellie, I’ll be right back.” The young man launched into a run down the stairs, risking a memorable tumble. “Anne! Wait!” He caught up to her just in time and, given that she was obstinately turning her back to him, he grabbed her arm. He immediately regretted his hurried gesture because, as a response, the woman turned around all of a sudden and hit him right in the face with her bag. “How dare you touch me?!” And with that she got in the car and sped away. 

_I let her slip away once again. Stupid Blythe!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love for you to leave a comment, even just one word! :) Stay tuned! :)


	5. Latibule

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _latibule_ (n.) a hiding place; a place of safety and comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! First things first, thank you to everyone that read the first chapters of this story and left kudos and comments. I am truly impressed by your response. :) Please know that I don’t have a beta reader for the English version of this story, so please excuse any mistakes.  
> Enjoy the new chapter!

Delphine was able to compel all his attention in the snap of a finger, and then she would drag him with her into worlds accessible only to children and to those who do not forget what truly feels to be a child. She had had this power over him even before she learned to utter her first words. He remembered, as it had happened yesterday, the moment when she tenderly placed her tiny velvety hand, a rich shade of the most refined chocolate, on his pale bristly cheek, for the first time. That moment had been brief like a flutter of wings, yet it had been engraved in his memory irretrievably, carving a perennial niche next to the most meaningful memories in Gilbert’s life. The little girl had welcomed him into her world immediately, taking his hand and never letting go of it. The young man knew that their relationship would not change when Delphine would grow up, spreading her wings, and when he, in turn, would find the first white hairs in his mass of dark locks. He had a special spot in his heart which was reserved for little Dellie, a spot that no one could ever take away from her, and he knew that, likewise, in the little girl’s tiny heart there was a precious spot for him. Therefore, it was no wonder that those bright, curious tiny eyes were now gazing at him and looking for the reason why a gloomy look had descended upon his face. “Uncle Gilby, when will you be happy again?” asked the child with a seriously worried tone. Frowning in surprise, Gilbert answered her hastily, hoping that his voice would not betray him, “What do you mean Dellie? I am here with you… I am not sad...” _How the hell did she manage to read him as if he was an open book?_ “You always tell me that telling lies is not nice, uncle Gilby. But it doesn’t matter if you don’t want to tell me what it is about. I already know why you are sad, anyway.” Gilbert looked at her with his mouth wide open in surprise. “You have upset Princess Cordelia, and now you are sad because she has gone away.” He kept staring at her, not having the strength to counter the impeccable arguments the child was continuing to provide when explaining the event. “...but I don’t understand how you have upset her. What did you tell her, uncle? Did you tell her lies?” Gilbert snorted when hearing how her little niece’s words were analyzing the situation in such a straightforward and astonishing way. He hadn’t exactly been telling lies, but the assumptions he had showered upon Anne – _Stupid Blythe!_ –, even before getting to know her, must have hurt her as much as a series of falsehoods about her spread by some town’s gossip. Noticing that her uncle kept being silent, once again Delphine took action in order to demolish the wall he was building around himself, cutting through it like a knife through butter. “Uncle Gilby, you always say that ‘An apology goes a long way.’” told him her niece, doing an impeccable impression of her uncle’s deep voice. “Dellie, what would I do without you?” 

***

“Hateful. Arrogant. Presumptuous. Idiot!” Every word was spat out with growing fury as she was climbing the stairs towards her apartment – for every step that she climbed there was a new fit of anger. Having her eyes narrowed to slits in annoyance, Anne didn’t notice the person who was climbing down the stairs at that moment and, accidentally, crushed into them. “Oh...I am sorry. I am awfully sorry!” _Her lack of attention was seriously starting to become a problem._ “No problem. I guess nothing serious happened, right?” the man in front of her answered chuckling, clearly amused by the freckled woman’s overreaction. It was only then when she lifted her gaze to see who was the person she had bumped into. When their gazes locked, it just took a few seconds for a flicker of recognition to cross their eyes. “Jerry?!” “Anne!” Overwhelmed by surprise, the pair burst into laughter. When they recovered their composure, both were still panting for air and massaging their belly to soothe the ache caused by the roaring laughter. “Mon dieu! Anne Shirley, what the hell are you doing here?!” “Manners, Jerry Baynard! It seems there are still a few little things I still need to teach you! Jerry… I cannot believe I am seeing you after all these years...” It didn’t often happen to her to remain speechless, but meeting again a childhood friend like Jerry was one of the rare exceptions that proved the rule. “How many years have passed? Ten? Ah! Anne Shirley, you haven’t changed a bit! Graceful like a pachyderm as always, aren’t you?” Anne had met Jerry Baynard, an orphan too, during the period when both were fostered by the Hammonds, a period whose only thing she thought worth remembering was precisely the time she had spent with Jerry. Two years younger than her, the tall and scrawny boy that used to talk continuously mixing French and English, had now become a man, but he kept the same jolly and funny look he had in the past. Engaging in small talk and catching up on the years they had spent without seeing each other, the pair had been stationing on the landing for a bit, Anne with her elbow propped on the stairs’ railing, and Jerry lazily leaning his back against the wall. “...and so I’ve been living with the Cuthberts ever since. And you? Have you just moved? Do you live with someone?” asked Jerry. “Actually, I just moved here a few weeks ago, and I live with my two best friends, Cole and Diana...” Seeing Jerry again truly lifted her mood, and she was almost forgetting about that insufferable, annoying Gil… Abruptly interrupting her flow of thoughts, Jerry said, “Anne, I am sorry to walk out on you, but I really need to go now… But how about you and your friends join us for lunch on Sunday? It’s been a long time since we last had new neighbours and Marilla and Matthew are always glad to have guests at lunch! Come on Anne! Relax… If that’s your concern, you won’t even need to draw near the cooking area… Marilla is not particularly keen on seeing her kitchen destroyed by a fire!” chuckled Jerry. _Even you haven’t changed a bit._ The young red-haired woman knew how to take her childhood friend’s teasing remarks and, slapping his shoulder affectionately, answered him, “Good idea! Let’s exchange numbers so that I can write to you when I get Di and Cole’s confirmation.” 

***

Sunday’s lunch at the Lacroixs’ usually meant a scrumptious dinner cooked by Mary’s skilled hands, but on that Sunday the rest of the family was sitting around the table while, in the open kitchen, Bash danced to the rhythm of a playlist that made him feel in Trinidad, his homeland, as he added the finishing touches to his crab callaloo. Delphine, who was sitting on Gilbert’s lap, leapt down to go dance with her daddy, and Mary and Gilbert kept sitting, enjoying that cute domestic scene with a content smile on their faces. Elijah, who was sitting on the other side on the table, was shaking his head, laughing. “So Blythe. Blythe, Blythe, _Blythe_.” It was never a good thing when his brother flashed him that sly smile. Nothing good, at all. Even though he still didn’t know the reason behind it, Gilbert braced himself for a long teasing session a la Bash, of which he had been the favourite target since when the pair had met. “A little bird told me...” he said, directing a wink at Mary and Delphine, as he put a steaming baking tray at the center of the table, “...that uncle Gilby has been quite affected by a certain Anne. What do you say, Blythe?” _I would really like to tear that sneer off of your face, dearest brother._ Bash had a natural talent for embarrassing him, and this time as well he managed to make him blush crimson to the tip of his ears. “I… She… I don’t want to talk about it Bash.” “Come on Blythe!! You aren’t sixteen anymore! Only a boy can’t admit when he’s gone over a lady.” “Please Bash, I was rude but it didn’t mean anything.” Gilbert would have liked the ground to swallow him, releasing him from that torment. “Says the one that has been interrogating Delphine for days, just to know something more about a certain woman with a red bob, uh Blythe?” Trying to stifle a laughter, Elijah joined Bash to give Gilbert the finishing blow, “As if a woman like Anne could even take you into consideration Gilbert. Keep dreaming!” _Absolutely fantastic. No doubt a nice way of spending a pleasant Sunday with your family._

***

When, on Sunday, Diana, Cole and Anne rang on the doorbell of one of the apartments on the floor below, it was a pleasant surprise for the young red-haired woman to find herself face to face with Matthew Cuthbert. For someone who had been gathering experience and practice for years, recognising a kindred spirit at first sight was easy as pie. She would usually feel a prickle spreading across her body whenever she happened to face a person with whom she felt she would establish a special connection. And Matthew Cuthbert, with lively sky-blue eyes and a pair of thick eyebrows standing out on a lined face, was certainly one of those individuals. Matthew must have felt something similar, because he looked her in the eyes and flashed her one of those kind smiles that people of few words bestow as if they were a precious jewel. Emerging from a room in the house, Jerry drew near Matthew and welcomed the three new neighbours, inviting them to make themselves at home. As she was looking around in an attempt to absorb, with insatiable greed, every tiny detail of the space where she was standing, at some point her gaze fell upon a woman with stern features, her grizzled hair neatly combed in a low ponytail, was bent over in the process of pulling out a fragrant loaf of homemade bread from the oven. While an overpowering smell of freshly baked bread was wafting across the dining room, the young woman noticed that everything seemed to totally confirm the description Jerry had made of his foster mother. Using the young man’s words, Marilla Cuthbert, in addition to clearly being an exceptional cook, was a woman with a frank and practical attitude towards life, and she was not prone to be paid exaggerated compliments. Anne decided that she would approach her with tact, tiptoeing, but she had to make an attempt, no matter how. Behind a thick bark of coldness, there could always be another kindred spirit hiding. 

That day, the most unusual group of people sitting around the table at the Cuthberts’ seemed to have been put together by a series of coincidences or, better still, by something that looked like a planet alignment in the universe of human relationships. Savouring every single course of food cooked by Marilla, a cozy atmosphere enveloping them, guests and hosts quickly became familiar with each other, and soon Diana and Cole ended up respectively telling about their passion for music and art. Diana had been able to find a spot as a music teacher in a private school in town, and Cole was working as a designer and tattoo artist in a tattoo studio. The Cuthbert siblings were not very talkative, but they both had the praiseworthy quality of being able to listen with rapt attention to the words of enthusiastic people. Unlike her friends, Anne had been quiet most of the time since the conversation drifted to the topic of work, and she was secretly hoping that no one would notice her not taking part in the chat. But Matthew Cuthbert, whose uttered words, since the beginning of lunch, could be counted on the fingers of your hands, did certainly notice and, directing a gentle and thoughtful look at her, asked, “And you, Anne? What do you do for a living?” Recently, every time someone asked her a question of this sort, Anne could feel her blood run cold. But now it was Matthew who asked her that question, and Matthew was a kindred spirit who genuinely cared to know about the passions, the dreams, and the aspirations of the minute woman he had just met. She could talk freely with Matthew, without feeling judged. “I dream of becoming a writer. At the moment though, I am working in a bar...” Matthew simply looked at her. The man’s gaze had the power to peer into her soul. “It’s not too late to run towards your dreams” Marilla joined in, unexpectedly. Sensing uneasiness in Anne’s voice, the woman moved the conversation on to another direction. Anne thus found out that Green Gables, the farm where Bash worked, belonged to Marilla and Matthew, and that the Lacroixs, as the years went by, had become family friends to the Cuthbert siblings. A few years before, the pair had retired and decided to entrust Bash with the business. “So you know Mary and Sebastian? Well, it’s a small world.” Marilla was really amazed at Anne knowing the Lacroixs, although she had never been living in the area before. The young woman decided to temporarily omit the reason why she got acquainted with the Lacroixs. Indeed, this was a little too thorny and personal tale to tell during your first lunch at your new neighbours’. Realizing that Anne didn’t want to delve further into the issue, Marilla continued doing small talk, “Speaking of, Mary and I are getting ready for the Autumn Fair in Avonlea. This year, she asked me to handle personally her bakery’s stand, since she cannot come and do it herself.” _Oh, poor Mary. Wait… Someone said “fair”?_ “A fair in Avonlea?” asked Anne, suddenly intrigued. “Oh!” Cole suddenly cried out. “Have I not mentioned it to you, Anne? It’s a local festival to which many buskers take part in. I bet you anything that you would adore it!” The young woman lit up and, if someone was to look at her from very close, they probably would have glimpsed – in transparency, beyond her deep blue eyes – the inner workings of a mind at work. 

“ _I have got an idea._ ” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love for you to leave a comment, even just one word!


End file.
